This post was written for the October 2026 Midway Menagerie, where the theme is "Furry Dreams".

Over the past few decades of the fandom, furries have had to fight like hell to carve out space for ourselves. Turns out we're really good at it.

A furry world

As I'm writing this in 2026, the fandom seems to be growing faster every year, at least if con attendance is anything to go by. My local community is running more events than one person can possibly attend--explosive growth compared to just a few years ago. I see kids with ears and tails at concerts and festivals--a lot of them.

At this inflection point, furries aren't just carving out space in mainstream society; they're building their own furry world.

Even "mid-size" conventions have grown into massive productions; we see thousands of attendees; we fill sprawling convention centers; we have stage shows with professional lighting, sound, and live streaming; we pack schedules with unique programming; and it's all done by furry volunteers.

Beyond conventions--the most visible example--furries have built out deep communications networks; folks outside the community wouldn't believe how well-connected furries are. When a meteor exploded off the cost of Massachusetts in May, I knew within about 10 minutes that it was heard as far north as Nashua, as far south as Providence, and as far West as Sudbury.

Furries run nonprofits doing important work. There are businesses large and small run by and for furries--a whole economy of furry goods and services. Furries even are building global internet infrastructure to serve the needs of the community.

A space of our own

It's in this context that Anville was first conceived. A friend was trying to organize an event, but the local library's meeting room was booked weeks out. A different friend--someone who's been in the community a long time--suggested that maybe it was finally time for their "insane thought of trying to long-term rent a community space."

The dream was a membership-based, cooperatively owned community space where people can do art, make things, share gear, host events, and just hang out.

The crazy thing is there was enough interest that it really seemed like it could work. A few days later this friend had a few dozen people in a video call talking through logistics and making plans. This didn't pan out for various reasons, but we were eventually able to connect with a local makerspace that hosts our events.

To be clear, I'm quite happy with how things ended up shaking out. We host one or two events a month and get a good turnout of kind critters making cool stuff. We're all very happy to have found a home with that makerspace, but the dream of having our own space has never left me.

The dream is a space where I can show up any time of day and hang out with whoever happens to be around. Where we have full control over the space and can shape it to meet our needs. A true third space.

And there's precedent too! People have done it.

Dreams of the future

I don't think Anville having its own space is in the cards for the foreseeable future, but I think keeping the dream is worthwhile.

Earlier this year I met someone at a punk festival in Iceland who runs an anarchist community house in Reykjavík, named Andrými. I had the opportunity to visit, and the place is amazing. They have a library, community fridge, community kitchen, free store, wood shop, bike repair shop, a childcare space, a meeting space, and an events space. They provide legal assistance, support for immigrants, childcare, support groups, etc.

Andrými aims to provide a space for grassroots and non-governmental organizations to organize and host events, as well as being a welcoming space for those who have none, particularly refugees. Andrými strives for increased freedom and empowerment of individuals and marginalized groups through self-organisation. Andrými stresses the importance of mutual aid between individuals and groups and support of the natural world. By challenging accepted ideas of private property, hierarchy, and marketization in the world Andrými’s ways of organizing within the space are radical in nature. Andrými also works to promote a different understanding of culture and social connections. One meaning of the name andrými means “space to breathe“--in the space, people should be able to feel safe and free. It is a place where people can gather to learn, share and think in order to bring new ideas back into society.

…and after twelve years, the building is getting torn down, because it's prime real estate and the city won't renew the program that allows them to afford rent.

Since visiting that house, I've been reflecting on how important community work is and how scarce community spaces are. Even if bootstrapping a community resource like Andrými proves too ambitious, I'm hoping there are principles of the project we can bring to Anville and our local community more broadly.

There are other folks out there doing this kind of work in our community, like MAMAS, a local mutual aid group. There's also QT Library, a project to build a queer and sober library and third space in the Boston area. I've talked with folks from both projects about Anville and how we can help each other, and I want to keep at it--pursuing opportunities to collaborate^[1]. Safer spaces, mutual support, and community care are the tools of revolution.

As furries continue to not just carve out space, but build a future for ourselves, I think we are well-positioned to dream big--think ambitiously about what we can do for our communities to fight for a better tomorrow.

MAMAS and QT Library need donations, and you should support them if you have the means.